


An Old Crush

by RayByAnotherName



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 06:31:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4211670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RayByAnotherName/pseuds/RayByAnotherName
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry goes to Draco for some help on a case. Written for the Drarry week of HP Ships Weeks on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Old Crush

Harry felt his eyes drooping even as he flipped through the alchemy book in front of him. It was meant to be a comprehensive book of arrays, but the ones Harry had found at the scene did not appear to be explained in its pages. 

“You still here, boss?” a new auror, Finkle if Harry remembered right, popped his head into his office, “There’s a woman here to see you.” Harry stood up and stretched, adjusting his auror robes so they didn’t show quite so many wrinkles.

“Who is it?” Harry half-expected it to be Ginny, come to drag him home or bringing him some left-overs for dinner. 

Hermione pushed past the young auror, “The person you owled at 10 o’clock at night to ask for help.” She was wearing a jacket over a night dress and Harry had to stifle a laugh at how extra-crazy her hair was, “I was just about to go to bed when your bloody bird started pecking at my window.” 

Harry pursed his lips and dismissed the now nervous-looking Finkle. When the door closed Harry met her eyes, “You sounded like Ron just now.” The letter that she’d brought with her was quickly flung at his head, having been crushed into a ball somewhere along the way.

“Where are these alchemic symbols you mentioned?” Hermione came up to his desk, hands on her hips and an expectant look on her face. Rose called it her ‘Grandma Weasley impersonation,’ but he suspected Rose would change the name when she met Professor McGonagall in September. 

Harry shuffled some of his papers around to find the original photographs the aurors had taken, “I didn’t think it smart to copy them down on to paper or anything else till we knew what they were for.” He handed them over and Hermione examined them with a pinched expression.

“I don’t recognize them,” Hermione said with a sigh, “But I know someone who might.” Harry raised an eyebrow, not a lot of people knew more than Hermione about anything, “Astoria mentioned it was one of her husband’s hobbies.”

“Astoria?” Harry knew that name. She was one of the chapter presidents of SPEW that Hermione had mentioned. Wait, “As in Malfoy’s wife?” Hermione nodded, “No.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Really, Harry, he’s probably the closest thing to an expert you’re going to find on this side of the channel.”

“It’s Malfoy,” Harry grumbled. It wasn’t that he minded asking for help when he needed it, but he had managed to go nearly two decades without having to talk with Draco. Two very hard won decades too because Draco’s wife seemed to be involved in every cause possible and Harry had nervously sat a room away at more than a few banquets and benefits. 

“Well, good luck then,” Hermione turned on her heels, “I’m going back to bed, Hugo wants to go to the park tomorrow and I will not be tired.” Harry let her go, throwing a half-hearted thank you after her as he sunk back into his chair. 

“Malfoy,” Harry mumbled under his breath, tracing his fingers of the alchemic symbols in the photographs. He spent another hour flipping through books before he gave in. It took him three tries and half an ink-pot to get the wording right, but just after midnight the owl was off. There was no taking it back now. 

So he went home, managed to get a good six hours of sleep before his alarm went off. When Harry stumbled out of the bedroom into the kitchen Ginny was singing off key to a Weird Sisters’ song as she made breakfast. Eggs and bacon were jumping from skillets to plates while orange juice was pouring itself. 

James looked almost drunk, head lulling back against his chair. Lily was failing to hide the cat in her lap, which Albus kept giving sidelong looks. Not that Harry blamed him after the whole hairy ball incident. 

“You got a letter,” Ginny pointed to the window by the door, where an owl was sitting on the sill. Harry felt the smile that had blossomed on his face at the sight of his family slide off. Ginny narrowed her eyes as she flourished her wand, the food and orange juice settled on the table, “Not good news?” 

Harry shook his head, taking the letter from the owl before taking a seat at the table, “Just work stuff.” He still recognized Draco’s handwriting, a fact which garnered its own anxiety. 

Once breakfast was over Ginny not-so-subtly sent the kids to play in another room as Harry opened the letter. Draco had agreed to see him, had written his address down, had even said that Harry could pop in at any time as he would be home for the foreseeable future. 

“I’m going to see Draco Malfoy today,” he said it aloud, surprised by his own voice really, and looked up at Ginny. She tilted her head in confusion, “For work, he’s apparently quite knowledgeable about alchemy and I need help identifying some arrays at a crime scene.” Now she was smirking, “What?”

“So you still have that crush on him I see,” Ginny leaned against table, amused greatly as Harry started to stutter, “You only ever mention interviews to me if you find the person attractive, like when he had to talk to the host of the Witching Hour last year.” 

Harry’s mouth hung open. Once Ginny came up to snap it shut he managed to speak, “That is not the case here.” Ginny only laughed at his denial.

“Please,” she rolled her eyes, “You had a thing for him in school, don’t even try to deny it.” She moved closer, “Actually, if it weren’t for that time you dated Cho Chang I would have thought you were gay.” 

Harry started sputtering again, “Wha- Why would you think that?”

“The sexual tension,” Ginny started ticking things off, “The way you obsessed over him, the jealous looks you gave Pansy Parkinson sometimes, the ones he gave me –.”

“I get it,” Harry threw his hands in the air, “But that still has nothing to do with -.”

“Sure,” Ginny drew out the word dramatically, “Just try not to jump him. Not that I’d mind, but I doubt his wife would be so accepting.” She patted his shoulder as she left the room, a smug grin on her face.

Harry groaned and rested his head on the table, thankful the dishes had be whisked over to the sink earlier. He was still clutching Draco’s letter in his hand without any idea why. It was going to be a long day. 

An hour later, with a shower and a quick stop by the ministry behind him, Harry stood in front of the Malfoy home. He’d been thankful when he realized it wasn’t Malfoy Manner – there were far too many memories there in his opinion – but it wasn’t exactly a downgrade either. It was a large home, not far from the center of London, with a good-size yard. 

When he’d gotten there Harry realized why Draco had written the address – it was well-concealed by several spells that felt oddly similar to the ones Grimmauld Place had. When he walked up the path he was surprised to see a bicycle and a small garden – though he was sure those plants were not rosemary or thyme. 

“Hello,” a young boy answered the door when Harry knocked. For a split second he thought he’d been transported through time, the boy had the same cunning face and blond hair as Draco had when Harry had first met him. 

But the eyes were wrong – a gentle blue, rather than steel grey – and the hair was a little wild – probably as far from Draco’s signature slick look as possible. His son, Harry supposed, ignoring the odd twinge in his heart at the idea.

“I’m here to see Draco,” Harry smiled at the kid, who nodded his head and opened the door wide. 

“I’m Scorpius,” the boy informed him as he closed the door behind Harry, “You can wait here while I get dad.” Before Harry could say another word the boy had shot off through the living room and up some stairs. Harry lingered in the entry way, eyes wandering the walls.

The living room was large, but cozy with big chairs and lots of photographs. A whole wall documented the life of young Scorpius – including drawings and a few awards from a primary school in London. A Muggle school. Odd.

“Potter,” Draco’s voice drew Harry’s attention to the stairs. Draco gestured for Harry to come up. Harry followed him down a hallway to a small study on the other end. 

The room was light, and even more photos of Scorpius decorated these walls. But so did a few artifacts, while contained behind glass the labels made Harry a bit suspicious. He decided to ignore them, for now.

“So, what did you need me to look at?” Draco sat on the edge of his desk and Harry recognized the nervous stance – arms and ankles crossed, chin raised, eyes focused on the wall.   
Harry smirked to himself, a little proud he could still make Malfoy nervous. He pulled the photos from the file he’d brought with him, “They were found in the basement of a house we were searching. No one on my team can make heads or tails of any of them.” 

Draco looked over each of the arrays, eyes intent and focused. Harry swallowed and bit his lip. Draco’s intensity sent his nerves running just as it had in school, but he couldn’t run off to quidditch pitch as he had then. 

“Was there any blood found at the scene?” Draco looked up at him. Harry nodded, “Human or animal?”

“Both,” Harry said, moving closer, “Why?” A blush rose up Draco’s neck as he did. Harry tried to ignore it. 

Draco smirked and Harry’s stomach dropped, “Because the base arrays look like those used for the transmutation of living things, specifically animals.” Draco moved from his desk to the bookshelves behind it. 

Harry remained by the desk, putting distance between them again, “I thought alchemy was for turning lead into gold and that sort of thing.” Harry frowned as he watched Draco’s back, “Don’t roll our eyes at me, I’ve read maybe two books on the subject.” 

“Obviously not very informative books,” Draco tossed over his shoulder as he finally found whatever book he was looking for, “You’re not wholly wrong though.” Draco turned back to meet his eyes, “Transmutation of living things was outlawed centuries ago.” 

Harry kept his eyes on Draco’s. It was hard to look away, especially with the curiosity he was all too familiar with flaring up in the grey eyes. Draco looked away first, down at the book he’d taken from the shelf. 

“People still do it, of course, mostly on small animals – squirrels and rats are very popular,” Draco started rambling as he looked through the book, “The fine is high if you’re caught, but for some it’s worth it.” 

“And the human blood?” Harry focused back on the work. It was better that way. Less distracting.

“Blood is necessary for many types of transmutations,” Draco still didn’t look up, “But given the changes made to the circle I would guess that whatever alchemist drew them was attempting to transmute something much bigger than a rat.” 

Harry started, “We didn’t find anything that would suggest a large animal had been there.” He shouldn’t have said that, it was an active investigation.

“Then perhaps the creation survived,” Draco said. He looked up at Harry then and placed the book on the desk, he turned it around and slide it over. 

Harry understood all of one line at the top of the page – Theories on Human Transmutation.

“May I ask why you were searching the house?” Draco asked, eyes now focused on Harry. 

Harry fidgeted, it was one thing to say what they hadn’t found, it was a whole other thing to talk about what they had. 

“Nevermind,” Draco said, turning back to his books, “I don’t need to know.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. It was a typical Draco move, brushing it off like he didn’t care, even when he did. It had infuriated Harry in school, more so than the attempts to degrade rather than admit his own feelings. 

“This is awkward,” Draco sighed, turned around again and leaning back against his book shelf, “It’s not just me is it?”

“No,” Harry smiled, internally screaming at the emotional progress, “But I doubt we’re going to fix that.”

Draco nodded, “True.” He smiled, softly, and Harry’s heart went right to his throat. He’d forgotten how much he liked it when Draco smiled – he’d done it so rarely when they were young. 

“Hypothetically,” Harry started, drawing Draco’s interest, “If sixth year had gone a different direction,” Draco’s face darkened, “Do you think we – .”

“Probably not,” Draco interrupted, eyes focused on his shoes. When he looked up at Harry he almost laughed, “I’m worse with my feelings than Weasley. Better at denying them too if what I heard about him and Lavender’s break up is true.” 

Harry attempted to keep a straight face, “Ron’s much more sensitive now.” The look on Draco’s face told him he wasn’t buying it, “At least comparatively.”

“Comparatively,” Draco repeated, chuckling, “Children do that. Wives even more so.” 

Harry agreed, “Scorpius seems like a good kid.”

“He is,” Draco smiled, full on, with teeth. Harry had never seen him do that, “It’ll be difficult to adjust when he goes off to Hogwarts.”

“So you are sending him to Hogwarts?” Harry said, “I’d heard a lot of the old families were picking Durmstrang lately.”

Draco nodded, his face stoic again, “He wants to go to Hogwarts. Wants to be a Gryffindor and meet Longbottom. He’s very excited.”

“Neville?” Harry took a seat on the chair in front of the desk, “Why does he want to meet him?”

“He wrote a book on herbology a few years back,” Draco said.

Harry scrunched up his face in concentration, “Intro to Herbology?”

“Herbology for Beginners: How to Start Your Own Greenhouse or Garden at Home,” Draco recited the name from memory, “It’s a favorite of Scorpius, he wants to be just like Longbottom now.”

“Bet your dad likes that,” Harry grinned at the face he imagined Lucious Malfoy making when his grandson went on about Neville. Draco laughed, the smile full of teeth returned. 

Harry smiled, this was nice. Or at least not as bad as he had imagined. 

When he got back to his house that night after finding the alchemist – who had apparently been trying to make himself a wife – he found Ron and Hermione at the table with Ginny. 

“How was Malfoy’s?” Ginny grinned at Harry before he kissed her cheek. 

“So you did go see him then?” Hermione perked up. 

Harry nodded, “It was fine. His son starts Hogwarts in the fall with Albus and Rose actually.” Now it was Ron’s turn to perk up.

“Really?” Ron looked skeptical, “Why would he send him there?” 

Harry grinned to himself, “Because Scorpius wants to be Neville Longbottom when he grows up.” The room went silent as the four adults traded looks and then erupted into laughter so loud it drew the attention of the five children playing upstairs.


End file.
